


Knighthood: Hidden Love

by SkyFireForever



Series: Knighthood [2]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Broken Promises, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Lesbian Character, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Magic, Multi, Pansexual Character, Romance, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFireForever/pseuds/SkyFireForever
Summary: Morgan le Fay is evil for evil’s sake. Or so everyone believes. So few know the truth of the bright young woman whose heart turned dark.
Relationships: Guinevere/Arthur Pendragon, Guinevere/Lancelot du Lac, Guinevere/Morgan le Fay, Lady of the Lake/Merlin (Arthurian), Lady of the Lake/Morgan le Fay, Merlin/Nimue (Arthurian), Morgan le Fay/Nimue
Series: Knighthood [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915933
Kudos: 2





	1. A Secret

“Guinevere, wait for me!” Morgan’s voice rang out through the trees as she struggled to catch up with her friend. “Slow down!” 

“Hurry up!” The redhead called behind her, her voice carrying laughter through the forest. “It’s not my fault that you’re so slow!” 

Morgan rolled her eyes, but a smile remained on her face as she chased her friend through the bushes. “I am not slow!” She protested, stooping below branches and hopping over roots. 

“You’re slower than me!” The young princess called, dashing through the underbrush. 

Morgan huffed, immediately regretting expending her breath in such a way. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to take in enough air, never slowing in her race to reach Guinevere. 

Eventually, Guinevere slowed to a stop, Morgan nearly colliding with her. The two girls had stopped by the edge of a stream. The stream babbled and flowed through the forest, its water surprisingly clear. 

Guinevere turned to Morgan, a bright grin upon her face. “Here we are!” She announced, throwing her arms out in a presentational stance. 

Morgan looked around, unsure of what she was supposed to be looking at. “And where are we?” 

“We’re in our own kingdom, of course!” Guinevere said, clapping her hands together. “Where we can rule as queens!” 

Morgan’s eyes widened as she thought of all the possibilities that had presented themselves to her. “Our own kingdom!” She exclaimed, a grin stretching across her face. “Of course!” She considered for a moment. “But what if I don’t want to be a queen?” 

Guinevere tilted her head to the side, staring at Morgan as though she had grown a second head. “Why wouldn’t you want to be a queen?” She asked. “Queens are the best! They get to make all sorts of decisions.” 

“Not really.” Morgan shrugged. “They usually have to do whatever their king tells them to.” She made a face. “I don’t want to have to marry a man.”

“Well, then, what do you want to be?” The redhead asked, blowing a strand of hair from her face. 

Morgan considered for a moment, tapping a finger against her chin. “Oh, I know!” She declared. “I want to be a fairy.” 

“A fairy?” 

“Yes, a fairy! Fairies are free to do whatever they wish.” Morgan grinned. “So I’ll be a fairy.” 

“Very well.” Guinevere smiled. “Morgan the fairy and Queen Guinevere!” 

Morgan nodded and started plucking flowers from the grassy forest floor. “You can’t be a queen without a crown.” She said. “So we’ll have to make you one.” She began braiding the stems of the flowers together, tying them with a bit of thread she had in her pocket. She spent the next little while crafting a beautiful flower crown for Guinevere, placing it on the princess’ head once it was completed.

Guinevere giggled and spun around. “How do I look?” 

“Like a queen.” Morgan said, unable to take her eyes off of her friend. 

“Good.” The redhead beamed. “Now, as queen, I say that we go exploring!” 

Morgan giggled and nodded. “Explore where?” 

“Hm.” The pretend queen searched the surrounding area, her gaze landing on something that made her eyes go wide. “There!” She pointed to a nearby cave behind a waterfall that led into the stream. 

Morgan followed Guinevere’s pointed finger with her eyes. “Ooh. Very well.” She agreed. “We can explore the cave!” She took off toward the cave, leaving Guinevere behind her. 

“Hey, wait up!” The princess called after her, hurrying to follow after her friend. 

They both had barely made it into the cave when they slowed down, realizing that they couldn’t see anything in front of them. Morgan reached out blindly, finding Guinevere’s hand and taking it in her own. They creeped forward, Guinevere keeping her free hand against the cave wall so they could find their way back out. 

Soon, it was pitch black, with the girls being unable to see in front or behind them. It was darker than night, as night had the stars to light the way. 

Morgan shivered, the air growing colder around her. “Maybe we should head back.” She suggested cautiously. “We don’t want to get lost.”

“We won’t get lost.” Guinevere insisted. “I have my hand against the wall, so all we have to do is turn around and go back the way we came.” She explained. “If we give up now, we won’t have had a real adventure.” 

“I guess you’re right.” Morgan chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure if she agreed with her friend. The last thing she wanted was for one or both of them to get hurt. 

They continued through the cave in silence, the only sounds being those of their footsteps and breathing. Morgan could no longer hear the sound of the waterfall from behind them. On the bright side, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she began to be able to see in front of herself. The downside was that there wasn’t much to see. Just a narrow corridor that grew narrower and narrower as it progressed. 

Before long, Morgan and Guinevere were pressed together, having to huddle close to avoid their shoulders brushing against the cavern walls. The ground was cold and hard, so unlike the grass and dirt of the forest floor. It sent chills down Morgan’s spine. 

“I think it’s time to head back.” She said. “We won’t be able to squeeze through for much longer.” 

“Nonsense.” Guinevere shook her head. “We can do it. We’ll just have to stop holding hands.” She released Morgan’s hand and took the lead. “I think I see a light up ahead.” She told her friend. “Yeah, there’s something right ah- whoa!” 

Suddenly, Guinevere was no longer in front of Morgan. Morgan froze in her tracks and her eyes widened. “Guinevere?” She realized that the cavern floor had disappeared in a drop off. She peered over the edge, spotting Guinevere on a ledge overlooking a fifty foot drop. 

“Guinevere!” Morgan called, laying on her stomach so she could get closer to her friend. “Are you all right?” 

“I think so.” Guinevere slowly rose to her feet, the ground beneath her beginning to tremble. “But I don’t think this ledge is going to hold out for much longer.” 

Morgan stretched out her arm as far as it would go. “Here, take my hand.” 

Guinevere reached up, but their hands were merely inches apart. Their fingertips could almost graze against each other, but they couldn’t grasp hands. Morgan tried to stretch further, but she could only do so much without falling off the edge herself. 

With a loud crumbling sound, the stone beneath Guinevere’s feet gave way and she screamed, falling into the abyss. 

“No!” Morgan cried and in a moment she felt _ something _ coursing through her. It was a warm and bright feeling, the feeling of the sun on a sunny afternoon, only, it was _ inside _ of her. It was a strong sensation, stronger than anything Morgan had ever felt before. 

Guinevere’s scream faded away and for a terrifying moment, Morgan thought that her friend must have hit the ground below. But when she turned to look, what she saw instead was Guinevere suspended in midair, nothing holding her up. 

The girls’ eyes met, both pairs wide with confusion and awe. Morgan slowly lifted her hand and Guinevere rose with it, flying through the air. Morgan very carefully stepped back, moving her arms to direct Guinevere back to solid ground.

The redhead stared at her. “How did you do that?” 

“I-I don’t know.” Morgan admitted, pushing back her brown curls. 

“That was  _ magic. _ ” Guinevere said. “You used magic.” 

“I know.” Morgan swallowed. “I don’t know how I did it.” She said. “I’ve never been trained. I’ve never done something like that before.” 

“It was amazing!” Guinevere exclaimed. “I had no idea that you were magic.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” Morgan murmured, rubbing her arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” She turned around and followed the wall out of the cave. 

She squinted harshly at the sunlight that poured in through the mouth of the cave, her eyes having adjusted to darkness rather than light. She slowly stepped onto the grass, turning to her friend, who followed her out. 

Guinevere looked like a wild child, her red hair sticking up in odd places and dirt smeared across her face, hands, and clothes from the fall. Her bare feet were caked with mud, but that was to be expected from their running through the woods. 

“You lost your flower crown.” Morgan noted, not knowing what else to say. 

“That’s all right.” Guinevere shrugged. “You can always make me a new one.” 

Morgan smiled and opened her mouth to agree, but she was interrupted by another voice calling out in the forest. 

“Guinevere!” The voice called, sounding awfully familiar. 

“Oh no.” Guinevere made a face. “It seems as though our playtime is over.” She tucked a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. “This was really fun, though. Best adventure ever.” 

Morgan grinned. “Agreed.” She said, hearing footsteps approach. “Oh, and about my magic-”

“Guinevere!” Morgan turned to see a young girl with fiery red hair and green eyes that matched her sister’s perfectly. Even her dress was the perfect copy of Guinevere’s, though much cleaner. “Look at you!” She stormed over. “You look a mess. Father sent me and several guards to look for you. He was worried.” 

“It’s nice to know you were so worried, Guinevak.” Guinevere said, sarcasm dripping from her words. 

Guinevak ignored the comment. “We must get you back to the castle.” She looked her sister up and down. “What  _ happened _ ?” She questioned, gesturing to Guinevere’s unkempt state. 

“Morgan and I went exploring in a cave.” She said. “And I fell.” 

Guinevak frowned. “How did you get back up?” 

There was a brief pause that had Morgan’s heart hammering inside of her chest. “Morgan pulled me back up.” Guinevere said. “It wasn’t that far of a drop.” 

“I see.” Guinevak said, satisfied with that answer. “The two of you shouldn’t play so much in places you haven’t been before. It’s dangerous.” 

“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Guinevere crossed her arms. “I didn’t die.” 

“Unfortunately.” Guinevak muttered. “Come along now. We’re going back to the castle.” She turned on her heel and started back through the forest, expecting the other girls to follow behind her. 

Morgan looked at her friend. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth about how you got back up?” 

Guinevere shared a grin with Morgan. “Because it’s our secret.” She said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Best friends always have secrets.” She took Morgan’s hand. “Now, come on. We should go before Guinevak throws a fit.” 

Morgan smiled and nodded, happy to share this secret with her friend. 


	2. Magic and Mischief

Sharing a secret with Guinevere was more fun than Morgan could have possibly imagined. They still continued with their dalliances into the forest, but they grew more careful about being caught. They each snuck out of their castles in the dead of night or at times when no one would notice they were missing. 

In the forest, sheltered by the trees, Morgan would practice her newfound magical abilities with Guinevere cheering her on. Guinevere was something of a couch to her, instructing her to tap into her potential and to focus on the feeling of it, to remember how she’d felt when she’d first used her magic. 

“Summon your power.” She would say. “Feel the energy within you. You know you can do this.” 

At first, Morgan could only use her abilities when Guinevere was in danger. Naturally, this resulted in Guinevere jumping off of tall objects or flinging herself into the river to test Morgan’s skill. Luckily for both of them, Morgan’s magic would kick in right at the last moment, when she was afraid that she would truly lose her friend forever. 

Eventually, Morgan learned to use her abilities without Guinevere having to risk her life for it. It started off small, with Morgan struggling to so much as levitate a leaf. 

She sat on the forest floor, a leaf laying flat in her palm. “Levitate.” She said, wiggling the fingers of her free hand at the leaf. “Fly. Float.” A frown tugged at her lips. “I command you to do something magical!” 

“I don’t think it works like that.” Guinevere plopped down beside her. “I don’t think you can command magic. I think you have to ask it to do what you want. Politely.” 

Morgan closed her eyes and let out a breath. “Right.” She allowed her eyes to open and she focused on the leaf. “Pretty please fly?” She tried. When that didn’t work, she growled and crumpled the leaf in her fist, tossing it to the side. “This is pointless.” She sagged against a tree. “My powers can only be used in life-or-death situations.” 

“I don’t believe that’s true.” Guinevere placed a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Just focus on how you  _ feel  _ when you’re using magic.” She told her. “Focus on bringing that feeling to the forefront of your mind.” 

The girl closed her eyes and inhaled, her lungs filling with air. She thought back to how the magic felt when it came to her, how it seemed to run through her very veins. She pictured the heat from the sun glowing within her, spreading from inside of her chest and out, until it reached the tips of her fingers and toes. She imagined the feeling stretching out, until it had stretched beyond her body and lifted the leaf, moving through the air as its own entity. 

She heard a gasp beside her and the grip on her shoulder tightened. Her eyes flew open and she watched the leaf dance through the air above her palm. A grin spread across her face and she pulled on the sensation of magic to cause the leaf to rise and fall in sync with her breathing. 

“I did it.” She breathed. 

“You did it!” Guinevere’s arms enveloped her and her lips fell upon her cheek. 

Morgan felt her face heat up and suddenly the magic running through her exploded, burning like fire as it shot through her body. All the leaves surrounding the pair flew into the air in a burst, swirling overhead and blocking out the sun. 

Guinevere pulled away with a bright laugh, not noticing Morgan’s blush. “Look at what you can do!” She exclaimed, standing so she could catch the falling leaves in her palms. “Morgan, you’re amazing!” 

Morgan smiled so much that it hurt. 

After that, it was easy to learn how to move objects. Her abilities grew from lifting a leaf to a rock to a boulder to anything she could think of. 

Of course, once she gained control of her powers, she no longer practiced alone in the woods. 

During tea time, Guinevak was being particularly prissy. 

“Guinevere, keep your elbows off of the table.” She yapped. “It’s not lady-like.” 

The young princess rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. “Yes, ma’am.” She shot her sister an over-the-top polished smile. 

When Guinevak turned her back to retrieve the sugar, Guinevere shot Morgan a glance that told her everything she needed. Morgan allowed her magic to flow beyond her and push Guinevak’s cup into her lap. 

The girl shrieked and leapt from her chair, the tea scalding her skin. Guinevere and Morgan both erupted into giggles, causing Guinevak to glare at the two of them. 

“Which one of you did that?” She demanded. 

“What ever do you mean, dear sister?” Guinevere batted her eyelashes at Guinevak. “Neither of us touched your tea. You must have spilt it on yourself. That isn’t very lady-like.” 

“Ugh!” Guinevak shook her head. “Tea time is over. I must change into a new dress.” She stormed from the room, Morgan and Guinevere’s laughter following her down the hall. 

Morgan enjoyed playing such practical jokes on people. She would regularly move a chair right out from under someone just as they were about to sit down, sending them colliding with the floor. 

Guinevere thought that Morgan’s tricks were brilliant and hilarious. She would help her friend pick out her next targets and would always tell her when she wanted to get revenge on someone. Guinevak was Morgan’s most common victim, not that she was even aware of it. She seemed to believe that she was just a particularly unlucky person. 

The girls were inseparable, even as they aged. Only, it was harder for them to spend any time together. Morgan’s step-father, Uther Pendragon, was the king of Britain and he had to make many public appearances. He expected his family to accompany him and to make appearances in court alongside him. 

Morgan didn’t enjoy all eyes being on her, but she appreciated the fabulous gowns and dresses she was put in for the events. She also enjoyed traveling across the kingdoms to new and unexplored places. Unexplored by her, in any case. 

She especially enjoyed visiting her sisters’ kingdoms, not because they were somehow grander or more interesting, but simply because her sisters were within them. 

The carriage pulled up to the castle, much smaller than Morgan’s home in Britain. She hopped out of the carriage and took off running towards the castle entrance. 

“Morgan!” Her mother called after her from where she remained seated within the carriage. But Morgan ignored her, running as fast as she could through the grass. Waiting for her at the steps of the castle were several people, but Morgan ignored them all in favor of one.

“Morgause!” Morgan wrapped her arms around her sister, which proved to be difficult due to the woman’s expanded belly. 

Morgause chuckled. “Morgan.” She spoke fondly, returning her younger sister’s embrace. 

“How have you been?” The younger girl pulled away. “It’s been so long.” 

“It has been.” Morgause agreed. “Too long.” She smiled. “Let me look at you.” She took a step back so she could study the girl properly. “You’ve grown.” She noted. 

“I have!” Morgan agreed, pride in her voice. “So have you.” She gestured to Morgause’s swollen belly. 

The queen laughed. “Yes, well, that’s what happens when you’re married.” She smiled. “I hope that one day you will experience the joys of carrying a child within you.” 

Morgan made a face, the idea of having a baby absolutely appalling to her. “Why would I want to do that?” 

Morgause smiled knowingly. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” 

“I doubt it.” Morgan murmured, fiddling with the lace of one of her dress sleeves. 

The king and queen of Britain approached, Igraine pulling her daughter closer. “I apologize for Morgan’s over-eagerness.” She said, a subtle reminder to her daughter to not get carried away. 

Morgause waved her mother off. “There’s no need to worry. Morgan wasn’t hurting anyone.” She assured her before pulling her in for a hug. “I’ve missed you, mother.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Morgause.” Igraine pulled away and pressed a kiss to Morgause’s head. “Now, where are my grandchildren?” 

“The boys are inside.” Morgause said. “Here, I’ll show you and Morgan to them while my husband and yours talk.” She offered. 

“That sounds wonderful.” Igraine agreed, following her daughter within the castle, Morgan on her heels. 

“Boys!” Morgause called once they reached the second story. “Come out and greet your grandmother.” 

A mop of curly brown hair appeared in a doorway followed by a small body. “Grandmother?” The small boy asked. 

“Oh, look at him.” Igraine pressed a hand to her heart. “Do you remember me? It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.” 

The boy studied the woman as though he was trying to place her in his mind. “Nope.” He said at last, having been unsuccessful in his attempt. 

Morgan giggled a bit to herself at the boy’s utter lack of care that he’d forgotten his grandmother. Igraine glanced at her before smiling. 

“Well, that’s all right.” The queen spoke. “You were very young the last time I was here. Your youngest brother wasn’t even born yet.” 

“Who?” The boy’s nose wrinkled. “Gaheris?” He asked. “Agravain wishes he still wasn’t born.” 

“Gawain!” Morgause chided. “That isn’t very nice.”

“It’s true!” Gawain insisted. “He hates him.” 

Morgause sighed. “He just needs time to warm up to him.” She said patiently. “Soon, he’ll come to love him, just as you love both of your brothers.”

Gawain shrugged. “I doubt it.” 

“Where are your brothers?” Igraine asked. 

“In the room.” Gawain pointed. 

Morgause led Igraine and Morgan inside of the room, revealing two more young boys playing with a set of blocks. They both looked up at the women, the younger of the boys quickly returning to his play soon after doing so. 

“Hello, there.” Igraine smiled. “I’m your grandmother.” She told the boys, kneeling beside them on the floor. She watched the younger boy as he continued to play. “Wow, look at you. I remember when your mother wrote to me of your birth.” 

The boy simply stacked one block on top of the other before knocking them down and clapping his hands together. 

“Gaheris.” Morgause said gently. “Darling, look at your grandmother when she speaks to you.” 

But Gaheris did not, simply content in his tower building and destruction. 

Morgause sighed and offered her mother an apologetic smile. 

“It’s all right.” Igraine assured her. “If he would rather play with his blocks, I understand.” 

“He’s just in his own little world.” Morgause took a seat in a nearby rocking chair. “I’m sure he’ll be interested in our guests eventually.” 

Igraine smiled and turned to the older boy. “And look at you. You’ve grown so much.” 

The boy blinked at her. “Yeah, I’m big.” He said as though it was obvious. “And strong.” He added. 

Igraine chuckled. “You are big and strong.” She agreed. 

Morgan, growing bored of watching the young boys, decided to go off on her own and explore the castle. It had been a little over three years since she’d last visited Orkney and she couldn’t remember all of the secrets of the castle. 

She traveled through the halls and up several flights of stairs, exploring every nook and cranny of the place. She found herself in the tallest tower, which held nothing by an old writing desk and a few paintings. 

She stared at the paintings, closing her eyes and allowing her magic to run through her. She felt the magic burst forth from her, touching the painting. Instead of lifting the painting into the air, Morgan imagined that her magic had color. She imagined the colors morphing and blending, shaping something out of nothing. She then felt the magic transfer those colors and that shape onto the canvas. 

When she opened her eyes, there was a small portrait of herself painted into the background of the picture, as though it had been there all along. She pressed her fingers against the canvas, surprised to find that the paint wasn’t even wet. She smiled at her portrait before hearing footsteps coming up the stairs to the tower. 

She spun around to see the young Gawain making his way into the tower. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“None of your business.” She shot at him, not wanting him to see what she had done to the painting. 

“Oh.” He frowned. “That’s not very nice.”

Morgan realized that he was right and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.” She smoothed out her gown. “You just caught me by surprise is all.” 

“Oh.” He repeated. “Well, your mother is looking for you. You should probably come downstairs.”

“Of course.” Morgan nodded. “Right away.” She followed the boy down the several flights of stairs to the ground floor. 

The visit passed without much incident, with King Uther and King Lot discussing things that Morgan didn’t understand. Morgan was expected to play with the boys, which she wasn’t too fond of, as the eldest was still six years her junior. 

Still, she enjoyed exploring the castle and making minor adjustments to most of the paintings with her newfound abilities. She couldn’t wait to tell Guinevere about her new gift. 

She missed Guinevere greatly, constantly thinking of how much more fun the visit would be if Guinevere were there. The two of them would be able to sneak off and run around together, finding new places to explore. 

But alas, Morgan was surrounded only by family, which quickly grew old. 

By the time it was time to go, Morgan couldn’t wait. 

Unfortunately for her, they were leaving for her sister, Elaine’s kingdom instead of their own. Morgan groaned and stared out of the carriage window, completely dissatisfied. At least she’d have a lot to tell Guinevere about upon her return. 


	3. A Teacher

Morgan’s return home was filled with joy. Guinevere stood on the palace steps, waiting for her, and Morgan took off running into her friend’s arms. The two girls laughed and went tumbling to the ground, happy to be with one another again. 

King Leodegrance hosted dinner for Morgan’s family, allowing Morgan to sit beside Guinevere so the two of them could catch up. Morgan told Guinevere all about the castles she had been to and how her family members were doing. Guinevere in turn spoke of her growing proficiency at horseback riding and archery. 

Only when they were alone did Morgan tell her friend about her new ability to edit paintings. She showed off her talent with some paintings that were hidden in the dark corners of the castle. She only made minor changes, tiny edits that no one would notice. 

Guinevere was amazed and pleased, wanting nothing more than to test Morgan’s powers in new ways. 

“There’s so much that you can do. I know it.” She insisted. “With some practice, I’m sure that you’ll be the most powerful woman who has ever lived!” 

Morgan flushed, ducking her head. “I don’t know about all that.” She said, but her heart swelled with pride. 

“I do.” Guinevere said, certainty in her voice. “I know you, Morgan. I know you’re capable of incredible things.” 

Over time, Morgan’s power only grew, becoming more difficult to control. When she tried to use her magic to move something back an inch, it moved back a foot. When she tried to make a small change to a painting, the whole thing became warped. She no longer felt in control.

She stood in a darkened corridor with Guinevere, trying to return a painting to the way it was before she’d messed with it. “Come on.” She murmured, closing her eyes and feeling the magic seep from her. 

“Relax.” Guinevere said, placing a hand upon her shoulder. “Just breathe. Focus.” 

Morgan took a breath, focusing on the rise and fall of her chest as air filled and vacated her lungs. She focused on the sensation of the magic, on pushing it beyond herself. But as soon as it spread past her fingers, it began to burst out all at once, too much shooting through her too quickly. She opened her eyes to see a red stain painted diagonally across the portrait. 

She growled and threw the painting across the room, frustrated by her not being able to fix it. “This is impossible!” She exclaimed. 

She turned her head to see Guinevak standing in the corridor, Morgan having not even heard her approach. “What’s impossible?” She questioned. 

“Nothing!” Morgan said hurriedly, moving to pick up the painting and hiding it behind her.

“Well, it’s obviously not nothing.” Guinevak rolled her eyes. “Let me see what you’ve done.” She held out her hands for the painting.

“Get lost, Guinevak.” Guinevere snapped at her sister, standing in front of Morgan. “You have no business being here.” 

Guinevak huffed. “Neither do you.” She pointed out. “But here you are, sneaking around in the dead of night.” 

“You can’t tattle on us because then you’d have to admit that you were doing the same thing.” Guinevere crossed her arms. “So get out of here.” 

“Not until I find out what you’re up to.” Guinevak argued. “Hand over the painting.” 

“No.” The twins faced off against each other, identical pairs of green eyes glaring at one another. 

Guinevak moved first, sidestepping her sister in an attempt to take the painting from Morgan. Guinevere jumped in front of her, stretching her arms to either side to block Guinevak’s path. 

“You’re being childish.” Guinevak said, attempting to move around her sister, who only continued to get in her way. 

“I am not!” Guinevere protested, moving in a circle around Morgan.

“You are.” The other twin said, suddenly dashing the other way to grab hold of the painting. 

“No!” Morgan was seized by panic and she felt the magic before she called upon it. It burst through her, no longer a warm feeling of the afternoon sun, but instead an explosive, protective feeling, the feeling of what a stone wall represents. It surged through and beyond her, her eyes wide as she watched Guinevak be thrown back and to the ground. 

The sensation faded, leaving Morgan trembling where she stood. 

Guinevak sat up, staring at Morgan in disbelief and anger. “You have magic!” She accused. “You used magic on me!” She scrambled to her feet. 

“Guinevak, you can’t tell anyone.” Guinevere said, her arms outstretched. “This has to remain our secret.” 

“I’m telling Father.” The twin declared. She turned on her heel and dashed down the corridor, leaving the two friends behind her.

“We have to stop her!” Guinevere said. 

Morgan frowned, shifting her weight from side to side. “Why?” She asked. “Everyone would have to figure out eventually.”

Guinevere stared at her friend. “Morgan, if they find out about your magic, they could send you away.” She said. “They’ll send you abroad to learn and then we’ll be separated.” 

“What?” Morgan’s heart seized in her chest. “That wouldn’t happen.” She insisted, her grip on the painting tightening. “My mother wouldn’t just send me away.”

“She sent your sisters away.” Guinevere pointed out. “Married them off as soon as she married the king.” She bit her lip. “King Uther probably wants to be rid of you as soon as possible too.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened. “But I don’t want to be sent away.” She stared off down the hall where Guinevak had left. “We have to stop her!” She threw the painting to the side and took off running. 

She panted, her heart hammering inside of her chest. She had to catch up with Guinevak before she told her father about Morgan’s magic. She raced up stairs and down long corridors, barely able to see where she was going. 

She burst through the king of Cameliard’s chambers, only to find him already standing before Guinevak. 

“See, I told you!” Guinevak said, pointing an accusing finger at Morgan. “Why would she have run in here to stop me if she didn’t have magic?” 

The king turned to Morgan. “Is it true that you used magic on my daughter?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” The girl blurted. “It was an accident! Please don’t tell my parents! I don’t want to be sent away!” 

King Leodegrance’s eyes were cold. “You used magic against my daughter.” He said, his voice like ice. “You could have seriously injured her.” 

“I know. I know, I didn’t-” 

“Your step-father will be told of this incident at first light.” He said. “You are to return to your own castle immediately.” 

“But-”

“And stay away from my daughters.” He warned just as Guinevere entered the room. 

“Father, it was an accident!” The young princess said. “Surely you can’t punish Morgan for a mistake!” 

“I can do whatever I wish.” He barked at her. “Guinevere, Guinevak, both of you will run off to bed at once.” He turned his glare to Morgan. “And you will return home.” 

Morgan bowed her head. “Yes, my lord.” She whispered, trailing out of the room. She felt tears gather in her eyes as she made the journey back home through the night. She borrowed a horse from Cameliard’s stables and rode for Camelot, wondering what her father’s reaction to her powers would be. 

She spent all night tossing and turning within her bed, unable to find peace enough for sleep. She couldn’t fight off her growing worry over whether she would be sent away or not. She could only hope that she would not. 

At first light, she left her chambers and strode to the throne room, where she found King Uther upon his throne. He looked up as she entered, a smile gracing his features. 

“Ah, Morgan.” He greeted. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the night at Cameliard.” 

“I was, my lord.” She spoke up, her voice shaking. “He sent me home.” 

He frowned. “And why would he do a thing like that?” 

She swallowed mustering up the courage for what she was going to say next. “Because I have magic.” She said. “And I accidentally used it on Guinevak.” She bowed her head. “Please don’t send me away.” She begged, falling to her knees. “I’ll do anything to stay.” 

The king stared at his step-daughter in surprise. “You have magic?” He rose from his throne. “Show me.” 

She looked up pitifully, rising to her feet. “I can barely control it anymore.” She warned. “But I can try.” She focused her attention on a nearby portrait, feeling her magic run through her. She lifted the painting through the air, trying to keep it steady. The spike came, her magic blasting through her and sending the painting flying across the room and colliding with the back wall. She turned to the king, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. 

“Magnificent.” The king declared. “And how long have you known about your abilities?” 

“Two years.” Morgan said. “Since I was twelve.” She swallowed. “I accidentally used it for the first time while saving Guinevere’s life. It’s been our secret ever since.” 

“Two years.” King Uther echoed. “And I had no idea.” 

“I apologize for not telling you, my lord.” The girl spoke. “It was a secret.” She didn’t know how else to explain why she hadn’t confessed. It had been something private, something for only her and Guinevere to share. It was special in that way. 

The king waved her off with a shake of his head. “Nonsense. I know now and that is what’s important.” 

A herald entered. “My lord, King Leodegrance has requested an audience with you.” 

“Send him in.” King Uther commanded. “I’ll speak with him.” 

The herald nodded and went out to retrieve the other king. 

King Leodegrance entered, bowing to the greater king as he did so. “My lord,I have come to speak to you on the matter of your step-daughter.” 

“No need.” King Uther said. “She has confessed to everything.” 

“Then you will understand, my lord, why I suggest that you send her away to study magic so she can properly learn to control it.” King Leodegrance said. “She is a danger to keep around. Last night, she nearly injured one of my daughters.” 

Morgan’s heartbeat increased in pace. One of her step-father’s closest friends and advisors was encouraging him to send her away. What hope did she have for remaining? 

“I will do no such thing.” King Uther said. “Magic is a powerful tool. I will not send away a weapon because I fear its power.” He returned to his seat upon his throne. “No, I will learn to control it.”

“But,my lord-”

“Quiet.” The greater king glared at the lesser king. “I have made my decision.” 

“So you will allow her magic to run rampant and uncontrolled?” King Leodegrance asked. “You will allow it to grow until it threatens us all?” 

“Now, I never said that.” King Uther said. “No, she will be taught to control her gifts, but I will not send her away in order for her to do so.” 

“Then how-”

“I will send for an old friend.” The king turned to a servant. “Send for the sorcerer known as Merlin. Tell him that I am in need of a teacher for my daughter.” 

“But my lord.” King Leodegrance spoke up. “No one knows where Merlin dwells.” 

“Then he will be found.” The king appeared unconcerned. He looked to Morgan. “Have no fear, my child. You will remain with family and you will be taught by the best.” 

Morgan let out a breath of pure relief. She wouldn’t be sent away! She could stay with her mother and Guinevere. 

“Thank you, my lord.” She curtsied to the king, unable to keep the smile from her face. 

The king nodded and dismissed both her and King Leodegrance. 

It took two months of searching before the sorcerer was found and delivered to King Uther. Morgan heard news of his arrival traveling throughout Camelot. 

She stood in her chambers with Guinevere, the two of them struggling to decide on an outfit for Morgan to wear to her introductory meeting with Merlin. 

“I don’t know, Guinevere.” She pulled out yet another dress. “Which of these screams eager to learn?” 

Guinevere shrugged. “I don’t know.” She lounged on the bed. “I’m not a fashion expert.” 

“You’re useless.” Morgan complained. “Okay, decide between black, purple, and green.” She tried. “Black is elegant, but purple is sophisticated, and green feels intelligent.” 

“Hm.” Guinevere considered for a moment. “Purple.” She decided. “But not the dark purple. A light purple.” 

“Like this?” Morgan held up a lilac colored dress. 

“Yes. That’s perfect.” Guinevere nodded. 

“If you say so.” Morgan began undressing, unsure if Guinevere had made the best selection. However, she trusted her friend. She put on the dress and spun around. “How does it look?” 

“Perfect.” Guinevere grinned just as a knock was heard on the chamber door. 

Morgan answered the door to see a servant standing outside. 

“The king requests your presence, my lady.” He announced. “At once.” 

“I’ll be right there.” Morgan said, shooting one last nervous glance at Guinevere before making her way to the throne room. She could feel her heart pounding within her chest and she focused on her breathing. She entered the throne room, curtsying to the king. 

“Ah, Morgan. There you are.” King Uther rose from his throne. “I would like you to meet Merlin, the finest sorcerer the world has to offer.” His hand swept over the room and gestured to someone standing by the wall. 

Morgan turned and who she saw surprised her. 

It was a boy no older than her, with jet black hair and eyes of the deepest blue. He wore a robe of blue that matched his eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of spectacles. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Morgan.” He bowed towards her. “I have heard so much about you.”

“ _ You’re  _ Merlin?” She asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-” She blushed. “It’s only-” She cut herself off once again. “You’re so _ young _ .” How could someone so young have anything to teach her? 

Merlin laughed. “I am older than the earth itself.” He said, a twinkle in his eye. “And younger than this morning’s sunrise.” He chuckled. “Age is such a pointless thing. It means nothing to me.” 

Morgan had no idea what that meant. “Right…” She stared at the boy. 

“Something that you will learn is how to let go of everything that you thought to be true.” Merlin clasped his hands behind his back. “You will let go of time, of space, of the rules of nature.” He smiled at her. “You simply need to trust me.” 

“I trust you.” She spoke without thinking. “I am eager to learn everything you have to teach me.” 

“Then you will make a wonderful pupil.” The boy grinned. “I would like to begin our lessons immediately.” He turned to the king. “With the king’s permission, of course.”

King Uther waved his hand. “Be my guest.” He told him. “I have set aside a section of the courtyard for your training.” 

“Perfect.” Merlin turned to Morgan. “It’s time for your first lesson.” 


	4. Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter, but I needed to keep writing.

Merlin was an excellent teacher. With his help, Morgan quickly learned to master her abilities. In just over a year, she was using spells that Merlin claimed to be advanced. 

She learned that different types of magic were different. What she had been using before was known as base magic, magic in its rawest form. It was the magic most magically gifted people tapped into first, as it required no real technique. The problem was that the more base magic was used, the stronger it grew, until it became difficult to control. 

Elemental magic was different. It required gentle guidance to control, required one to feel the way the world knitted itself together. Water magic was like a river running through her veins, twist and turning at a quick pace that was somehow still leisurely. The river knew its destination and flowed to get there at its own pace. 

Fire magic wasn’t all explosions and ferocity, as she had expected. No, it was the pleasant warmth within the hearth, casting lights that danced across the room. It was the smell of a campfire deep in the woods that friends huddled beside. 

All types of magic had a unique feel and Morgan appreciated them all. 

Though, Merlin didn’t just teach her magic. He also ensured that she was learned in the seven arts. Astronomy proved to be her favorite subject by far, as she enjoyed learning of the stars and planets and how they affected her world. 

She spent less time with Guinevere, as she was immersed in her studies. She still spent her free time with her friend, though they didn’t go running off into the woods anymore. They were older now, had more responsibilities and were expected to act far more dignified. 

Guinevere delighted in Morgan showing her each new skill that she learned, which Morgan eagerly did. The red-haired princess even allowed Morgan to practice spells on her, much to her father and sister’s disapproval. 

“Do you realize how dangerous that is?” Guinevak would ask. 

Guinevere would scoff and shake her head, claiming that Morgan was incapable of hurting her. Guinevere’s complete faith in her made Morgan feel warm inside in a way completely unrelated to magic. 

The two girls were in Morgan’s chambers, Morgan standing beside the bed while Guinevere sat upon it. Morgan was practicing an advanced sleep spell that Merlin had recently taught her. It involved transferring one’s emotional and physical exhaustion onto another, overwhelming them enough that they were forced to fall into a deep sleep. 

The curly-haired girl closed her eyes, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She lifted her arms and allowed the exhaustion of her task to settle over her. She felt the exhaustion from her duties, from using magic, from the very essence of living. Her shoulders drooped, her arms growing heavy. She continued breathing, focusing on the sensation of exhaustion and allowing it to overwhelm her. Just as she was about to sink to the ground in a slumber, she pushed the exhaustion out and beyond her, passing it to the girl sitting on her bed. 

She felt all tiredness leave her, restoring her with life and energy. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Guinevere laying on the bed, quiet snores escaping her. A grin grew upon Morgan’s face and she threw her fist in the air. 

“Yes!” She exclaimed, proud of herself for mastering such an intense spell in such a short time. She approached Guinevere and took hold of her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Okay, you can wake up now.” She told her friend, who didn’t budge. She frowned. “Guinevere?” She tried rousing her again, to no avail. 

She cursed under her breath, realizing that she didn’t know any spells that would reverse a sleeping curse. She closed her eyes and summoned a babbling river within her body, sensing how it flowed and moved. She focused on the water that was all around her, in the very air that surrounded her. She pulled at the water, coaxing it towards her before moving it outward to splash upon Guinevere’s face. 

Her eyes opened, but her friend was no more awake than when she’d shaken her. She was simply damp. Morgan’s worry began to set in, concern that she wouldn’t be able to wake her friend without outside help. 

She fled from her chambers, making her way to the gardens where she knew her teacher enjoyed spending his time. 

Sure enough, she saw him there, plucking an apple from its tree. He appeared old and wizened, his back hunched as he supported himself with a cane. That was something odd about the sorcerer. He appeared differently almost each time Morgan laid eyes on him. During lessons, he usually appeared as a young boy of her age, tall and skinny, but lacking in muscle. Other times, he appeared even younger, as an energetic young lad with a skip in step. Still other times, he had the appearance of an old man, as he did when Morgan approached him in the garden. 

“Master Merlin!” She jogged up to him, a bit out of breath from her hurry to reach him. “Master Merlin, I am pleased to announce that I have mastered the sleep curse that you taught me.” 

The sorcerer did not even turn his gaze to her, too busy studying the apple in his hand. “Mastered it, have you?” He spoke after a pause so long that Morgan had begun to think that he hadn’t heard her. 

“Yes, sir.” The girl nodded. “I used it on Guinevere on my first attempt after practicing on animals.” 

“Hm.” The sorcerer finally looked at her, his deep blue eyes never changing no matter what age he appeared as. “Very well done, my pupil.” He offered her a smile. “You have harnessed the power of sleep, which is only a step away from mastering death.” 

“Thank you, master Merlin.” She curtsied to him. “But while I have mastered sleep, I still do not know how to wake her.” 

The sorcerer let out a laugh. “Yes, well, life is so much more difficult to control than death, is it not?” His eyes twinkled beneath his spectacles. 

“Yes, sir.” Morgan nodded, not entirely sure what he meant. “But I would like to learn how to wake my friend.” 

“Let her rest.” Merlin waved her off. “She deserves her rest.” 

Morgan frowned. “But-” 

“Rest is the only time when one can escape from the horrors of the world into a new one.” 

Morgan knew better than to argue with her teacher. “Yes, master Merlin.” She curtsied at him before beginning to walk off. Merlin could say things that were so bizarre at times. Morgan didn’t know how to make sense of his words. 

Guinevere awoke a few hours later with no harm done to her. She was invited to dine at Camelot that night, sitting beside Morgan as they were served. 

“Your powers are growing.” King Uther noted to Morgan over dinner. “You are becoming quite skilled.” 

“Thank you, my lord.” The girl couldn’t keep the proud smile from her lips. “I am practicing frequently.” 

Igraine turned to her daughter. “I only worry that these abilities of yours will make it difficult to find you a husband.” 

Morgan let out an exasperated sigh, not desiring to have this conversation again. “Mother, we’ve been over this. I don’t need a husband.” Nor did she want one. 

“A husband would do you good.” Igraine said. “You certainly don’t wish to remain alone forever?” 

“I won’t be alone. I’ll have you, my sisters, nephews, niece, Merlin, and Guinevere.” 

“That is not the same as having a husband and children of your own.” 

“What do I care if it’s different?” Morgan challenged. “It is what makes me happy. Shouldn’t that be what’s most important?” 

Igraine sighed. “Morgan, you know that your happiness is what means the world to me, but-”

“Then this conversation is over.” Morgan returned to her meal, embarrassed that Guinevere was there to witness her humiliation. 

The rest of the dinner passed in silence. 

Morgan continued using her magic, studying under Merlin and absorbing all he had to teach her. 

He began teaching her of otherworldly beings, of creatures who might appear human, but who were not. Many of them held great magical power that Morgan could only dream of. As soon as Morgan learned of the existence of such creatures, she became obsessed with them. She wished to learn all she could about them, but Merlin was cryptic and withheld the information she so desperately sought. 

As another year passed, Morgan became even more invested in her studies. She trained harder, mastering illusions and studying the otherworld. Whenever she wasn’t practicing spells, she was studying the arts. Whenever she wasn’t doing either of those, she was searching for books on the otherworld. When her nose wasn’t buried in a book, she was talking with or showing off to Guinevere.

Guinevere was still her biggest supporter. She watched Morgan’s magic with awe and fascination. Whenever the two of them were around each other, Morgan felt butterflies in her stomach, though she couldn’t say why. 

As the two aged, Guinevere seemed to grow only more beautiful. Morgan had always appreciated her friend’s beauty, but it began to transcend simple appreciation. 

Morgan was sixteen years old when she realized that she had a crush on her best friend. The realization hit her like a speeding carriage. She had been sitting with Guinevere and Guinevak, listening to the more annoying of the princesses yammer on and on about a boy she had met and how she was destined to marry him.

The way that Guinevak described her feelings for the boy, how her heart felt fuller when he was around, how her stomach did flips, how she felt suddenly warm, all caused Morgan to realize with a start that she shared Guinevak’s symptoms. Only, they weren’t for a boy at all. 

Morgan glanced at Guinevere out of the corner of her eye, her face heating up. How long had she had feelings for her friend? How was she supposed to act now that she knew that she did? Was she supposed to pretend as though nothing had changed?

In a way, nothing  _ had _ changed. Morgan had simply realized what had always been present. She swallowed down her water, smoothing out her gown as she jumped to her feet. 

“I must go.” She announced, not waiting for a reaction before dashing out of the room. 

One thing was for certain: Guinevere could never know how Morgan felt. 


	5. Betrothal

Two weeks after realizing her feelings for Guinevere, Morgan was called into the throne room. 

“You asked to see me, my lord?” She curtsied to the king. 

“Ah, Morgan. Yes.” King Uther waved her in. “Just the woman I was hoping to see.” He said as though he hadn’t called for her. “You remember King Urien of Gorre?” He gestured to his right, where a young man stood beside him. 

“I do, my lord.” Morgan confirmed. “He is King Lot’s brother, is he not?” They were family by marriage, as Morgan’s sister, Morgause, was married to King Lot. 

“That he is.” King Uther smiled, though he didn’t quite meet her gaze. “He is a guest in our home and I would like you to show him around Camelot.” 

“Me?” Morgan’s expression was puzzled. She didn’t understand why her step-father had called upon her instead of a servant. 

“Yes, you.” King Uther’s expression darkened. “Will that be a problem, Morgan?” 

“No, my lord.” She said hurriedly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. 

“Good.” The greater king motioned for King Urien to make his way towards Morgan. 

Morgan led him out of the throne room and down the halls, showing him all parts of the castle. They made small-talk, with Morgan asking about the going-ons in his kingdom as if she cared. They reached the courtyard, Morgan walking through the finely cut grass. 

“And here is where the knights train.” She gestured vaguely to a section of the courtyard. “And this is where I train.” She said offhandedly, not considering what she was saying. 

“So it’s true.” King Urien said. “You’re a sorceress.” 

The girl shrugged, fiddling with her sleeves. “I suppose I am, yes.” Normally that would be a source of pride for her, but with the way the king asked, she only wanted to close in on herself. 

“That’s magnificent.” He declared. “What kind of magic do you know?”

“All kinds, I suppose.” She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. “Well, not  _ all  _ kinds. I’ve only been training under Merlin for two years.” 

“And Merlin is your teacher?” 

She nodded.

“What’s he like?” 

“He’s a wonderful teacher.” 

“And he teaches you magic?”

Another nod.

“Will you show me?” 

“Oh, I don’t know…” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Magic isn’t meant to be used as parlor tricks.” 

“You can show me something small.” He suggested. “Just something. Anything. To prove that you really can do it.” 

That sent something through Morgan. She wanted to snap, wanted to insist that she had nothing to prove to anyone, but then she got a better idea. “You want me to prove to you I can do magic?” A smile spread across her face. 

“More than anything.” He looked at her with pleading eyes. 

“Very well.” She stepped back and raised her arms. She focused on the exhaustion she felt from having to talk to this man. She focused on how fatigued her legs were from walking, on how spent her mind was from coming up with things to say. She sent all of that tiredness through her and passed it to King Urien, watching as his eyes drooped before he fell over, collapsing to the ground.

Morgan smirked and turned on her heel, leaving the king asleep on the grass. She knew that she would probably get in trouble for using her magic on a guest, but he had asked for it. She left Camelot for Cameliard, taking a horse and making the short journey to her friend’s castle. 

She found Guinevere at the archery field and watched as the redheaded princess shot a bullseye. She grinned and clapped her hands together. “Very well done.” She applauded. 

Guinevere spun around, having not known anyone else was there. “Morgan!” She laughed. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming.” 

Morgan shrugged. “I needed to get away from Camelot.” She admitted. “And there’s really no better place to go.” 

Guinevere caught the bitterness in her friend’s tone. “Why did you need to get away?” She set down her bow as she approached Morgan. “What happened?” 

The girl sighed, brushing back her curls. “My father made me show around this friend of his.” She explained. “And he kept asking questions about my magic and eventually pressured me into showing him my magic.” She smiled wickedly. “So I put him to sleep and left.” 

The redhead gasped. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” 

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Morgan shifted. “He was annoying me and creeping me out. I just wanted to be rid of him.” 

“So you cursed him?” 

“I... yes.” Morgan frowned. “Is that so bad?”

“Not to me.” Guinevere grinned. “I say that you have your powers for a reason, so you might as well use them against people who bother you.” 

Morgan smiled. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome to stay a while.” She offered. “I’m supposed to practice my studies soon, but I can always skip that.” 

“You’d skip your studies for me?” 

“Of course. They’re dreadfully boring.” 

Morgan chuckled. “I quite enjoy my studies.”

“You and Guinevak both.” The redhead wrinkled up her nose. “I will never understand how you people can find geometry and such things to be interesting.”

“Don’t you enjoy learning how the world works?” 

“Not particularly.” Guinevere shrugged. “All that matters is that it does work. I don’t care much for the how.” 

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Morgan picked up a bow and a quiver of arrows. “How about we see who’s better at archery, then? At least that will keep your attention.”

Guinevere let out a snort. “Never in your life have you been able to beat me in an archery competition.”

“Maybe that’s all about to change.” Morgan grinned. “Unless you’re scared?” 

“You wish.” The redhead picked up her bow. 

The two girls spent the next little while competing, Guinevere obviously winning. Morgan had never been particularly skilled at archery while Guinevere was a natural. There was no competition between the two of them in terms of skill. 

During one shot, Morgan used her magic to guide her arrow to the target, finally besting her friend. 

“Ha!” She announced. “I did it!”

“You cheated!” Guinevere argued. “I know you did!”

“Did not!” 

“You absolutely did!”

“Prove it!”

A throat cleared behind them and the two girls turned around to see King Leodegrance standing with his arms crossed. 

“Father!” Guinevere lowered her bow. 

“Guinevere.” His expression was icy. “You’ve missed your studies for the day.” 

“Yes, but-”

“Go to your chambers.” 

“But-”

“Now.”

Guinevere bowed her head, setting down her weapon. She waved a slight goodbye to Morgan before heading back towards the castle. 

“Morgan.” The king stared down at the girl. “Your step-father sent a servant to collect you. He assumed you would be here.”

Morgan’s heart sank, knowing it was time to pay for her mistake of putting King Urien to sleep. “I will leave for Camelot at once, my lord.” She bowed her head. 

“You would do well to do so.” He agreed. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel his glare upon her. 

Morgan rode to Camelot, taking her time to put the horse away before making her way to the throne room. She was surprised to see both her step-father and her mother waiting for her. 

“King Urien has spoken to me of your time spent together.” King Uther said and Morgan braced herself for a lecture. “He said that the two of you had a wonderful time.” 

Morgan stared in disbelief, his words washing over her. “He said that?”

“He did.” 

“Oh.” That didn’t make any sense, but Morgan wasn’t about to complain. 

“In fact, he had such a good time that he wishes for the two of you to spend more time together.” Igraine spoke up. 

Morgan wrinkled up her nose. “I’ll pass.” She said. “Respectfully.” She added. 

“Morgan.” Igrane rose from her throne and approached her. “King Urien has requested your hand in marriage.” 

The girl’s eyes went wide and she stared at her mother. “Marriage?” She repeated, barely able to process the words. “What?” Her mouth hung open like a dead fish. Marriage. King Urien wanted to marry her? After she had cursed him? 

“Yes, Morgan, marriage.” Igraine nodded. “I think the two of you would make a fine match.” 

“No.” Morgan said, shaking her head. “I don’t know him.”

“The two of you will have plenty of time to get to know each other.” 

“He’s so much older than me!” 

“He’s five years older. That is not a significant number.” 

“He’s twenty-one!” Morgan threw her hands into the air. “I’m sixteen. He’s too old!” 

“Morgan, you must calm yourself.” Igraine said in that soothing, calm voice of hers. “King Urien is a good man. He will treat you well.”

“I don’t care.” She shook her head. “I won’t do it. I won’t.” 

“The match has already been agreed to.” King Uther said. “The two of you will be wed within the month.” 

“No. No, you can’t do this.” Morgan felt tears fill her eyes. “You can’t.” 

“We can.” King Uther said. “And we will.” 

“Morgan, sweetheart.” Igraine said gently. “Urien really likes you. You’re lucky. We thought finding you a husband would be more difficult, given your gifts.” 

“But I-” Morgan struggled to find something that would put a stop to this. “But I love someone else!” 

“Love has nothing to do with it.” King Uther said. 

“Hopefully, with time, you’ll learn to love your husband.” Igraine said. 

“No. No.” Morgan shook her head before turning and fleeing the room. She ran out the doors and down the steps of the castle. She went charging into the woods. She needed to get away. She couldn’t stand being there any longer. She ran and ran and ran until she could run no more and then she kept running, as though if she ran far enough away, she could be happy. 


	6. The Lady of the Lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter, but let me know what you think of it!

Morgan disappeared into the forest. She ran blindly, tears and trees obscuring her vision. She eventually collapsed, falling to the forest floor. She rested her back against a tree, her chest rapidly rising and falling with each breath. 

Tears and snot poured down her face and she knew that she didn’t paint a pretty picture of a perfect princess. Good. She didn’t want to be some pretty princess to be married off without her permission. She didn’t want any of it.

She wished she could go back to her childhood, when she and Guinevere would run barefoot through the trees, laughing and creating their own made-up kingdoms. 

She hugged her knees, sniffling pathetically. Her eyes squeezed shut, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to escape. She didn’t want to cry anymore. It hurt too much. She struggled to get her breathing under control, her entire body trembling. 

There was no telling how long she remained sitting there, but the sun had disappeared from overhead by the time she rose to her feet. She should return to Camelot, but she realized that she had no way of knowing which direction she had come from. She spun in a small circle before picking a direction and starting to walk.

She didn’t particularly care if she was headed in the right direction. She just didn’t want to sit in the same place and wallow in her self-pity for any longer. She wiped her eyes of tears and pushed branches out of her way. 

As the trees gave way to a clearing, she found herself standing before a wide expanse of a lake she had never seen before. She sighed, realizing that she must have been walking the wrong way. She sat at the edge of the lake, removing her shoes and dipping her toes into the clear water. 

The sun was quickly dipping below the horizon and soon it would be night. Morgan could feel the chill growing in the air. She wrapped her arms around herself, stirring the water with her foot. She didn’t want to be caught alone in the woods at night, but she saw no other option. 

She pulled her feet from the lake and tucked them beneath her, laying on her side beside the lake. Perhaps she could sleep without being disturbed and could journey back to Camelot at first light. 

Just as the sun’s rays fully disappeared, the lake beside Morgan began to glow with an ethereal light that shone through the trees. Magic radiated from the glowing waters, filling Morgan with the same sensation that base magic did. 

She sat up, watching as the glow grew brighter and brighter before dimming all at once. She reached out to touch the water, watching the ripples created by her finger. The ripples spread outward, traveling across the lake in circles. The spot where her finger touched the water began to glow, shining into the night sky and Morgan backed away, tripping over herself in an attempt to reach a safe distance. 

A pale hand rose from the water, reaching up and out before falling upon the grassy shore. Another hand reached out to join it, both hands pushing on the ground to lift up the body they were attached to. Long blonde hair obscured the figure’s face as it situated itself so it was sitting upon the grass.

Morgan watched, a sort of terrified curiosity running through her, as the figure parted its hair to reveal the face of a young woman. The figure tilted its head at Morgan, curiosity shining in its bright blue eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” The figure asked, its voice sweet and light. 

“Uh, I- Uh-” Morgan couldn’t come up with a proper answer. 

“Are you lost?” 

“No. Yes. Kind of.” 

The figure chuckled, its laughter holding the sweetest music that had ever graced Morgan’s ears. “There’s no need to be afraid.” It assured her. “My name is Nimue. This is my lake.” 

“Your lake?” Morgan repeated. “How is it your lake? It’s in the kingdom of Britain, so surely it belongs to King Uther.” 

The figure - Nimue - laughed again. “I care not for the kings of your world.” 

“My world?” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “You're not from this world, are you? You’re from Annwn, the otherworld.” That would explain why Morgan could feel magic coursing through her from being in the presence of Nimue. 

“I am.” Nimue smiled, her teeth a dazzling white. “I didn’t know that mortals were aware of Annwn.” 

“Not all of them are.” Morgan studied the blonde with fascination. “I’m a sorceress.” She explained. “My teacher told me of it.” 

“I see.” Nimue lounged upon the bank of the lake and it was only at this moment did Morgan realize that the woman was completely devoid of any clothing. Morgan blushed and turned her head away out of respect for the woman’s privacy. “Why do you turn away?” The woman asked. 

“You’re…” Morgan swallowed, heat in her cheeks. “You’re quite naked.” 

“So I am. What of it?” 

“It’s indecent.” 

“How so?” 

“You’re exposed.” 

“How is that indecent?” Nimue reached out to press a hand to Morgan’s. She was surprised to find it completely dry. “I am in my natural state.” 

“But your natural state is  _ naked _ .” Morgan tried to explain. 

“As is yours.” 

“Still.” 

“If it would comfort you, I can give myself the appearance of wearing clothes.” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Done.” 

Morgan turned her head to see Nimue dressed in a breezy, white dress that flowed around her. She smiled at the dark-haired girl, brushing her blonde hair behind her. It suddenly hit Morgan how attractive the woman was, with her hair in waves and her skin unmarked. 

“Did you magically create that dress?” The girl asked, curiosity overpowering her fear. 

“It isn’t a dress.” The blonde said, a smile upon her pink lips. “It is simply the illusion of a dress.” 

“You created such an illusion?” Morgan was surprised and impressed. The dress truly appeared to hang off of Nimue and moved whenever she did.

“I did.” The woman confirmed. “When you look upon me, most of what you see is an illusion.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You perceive me as appearing as your traditional idea of feminine, do you not?” 

“I do.” Morgan confirmed, taking note of the lady’s rounded face and hourglass figure. 

“That is an illusion.” 

“How so?”

“I simply make myself appear as whatever you perceive to be as feminine. My idea of feminine and yours probably vary quite significantly.” 

“I see.” Morgan studied her. “Could you teach me how to perform such a spell?” 

“Of course!” The lady beamed at the suggestion. “In return for knowing your name.” 

“Oh.” Morgan hadn’t realized that she hadn’t shared her name with the woman. “It’s Morgan.” 

“That’s such a beautiful name.” Nimue let out a sigh of contentment. “For a beautiful woman.” 

The girl’s face heated up. “I’m not beautiful.” She said, having not been able to recall a time when anyone had ever called her such before. 

“Of course you are!” The woman clutched a hand over her heart. “Whoever made you think that you aren’t?” 

“Well, it’s just…” Morgan ducked her head. “No one has ever called me beautiful before.” 

“Because they need not state the obvious.” Nimue waved a hand through the air. “One doesn’t constantly remark upon the beauty of a rose they see everyday.” 

The dark-haired girl could feel her cheeks and ears burning. “Thank you.” She mumbled. 

“No need to thank me.”

“Right…” Morgan brushed her hair back. “But could you teach me the illusion?” 

“Of course! It’s quite simple.” Nimue situated herself. “You must simply morph sight around you.” 

Morgan stared, the lady sounding just as nonsensical as Merlin did at times. 

“You don’t follow?” The woman asked, sensing Morgan’s confusion. “Well, reality is only the perception of the world around you.” She explained. “Reality is based on what your senses tell you to be true. That is, sight, smell, sound, taste, and touch. If you distort the senses of those around you, you change reality.” 

“Ah.” Morgan nodded, listening eagerly. “And how do you distort the senses of those around you?” 

“By pulling on the threads of reality.” The lady smiled. “If distorting the senses changes reality, then distorting reality will change the senses.” 

Morgan was completely baffled. “Then how do you pull on the threads of reality?” 

“And now you’re asking the right questions.” Nimue’s eyes twinkled in the same way Merlin’s often did. “Close your eyes.” She instructed and Morgan did so. “Focus on what your senses are telling you. Focus on what you feel, what you hear, what you taste, what you smell.” 

Morgan took a breath, feeling the slightly cool nighttime air against her skin that caused her skin to erupt in gooseflesh. She shivered slightly. She inhaled through her nose, smelling the ecosystem of the lake. The music of crickets reached her ears, chirping their tunes. She opened her mouth to taste the fresh air. 

“Good. Now open your eyes and focus on what you see.” 

The girl did as she was told, absorbing the sights that surrounded her. She took in the sight of the lake, of Nimue, of the darkened sky, and the nature around her. 

“Now that you are fully immersed in reality, now that you feel it all around you, pull on the threads that bind it together. Think of what you want to be reality and then create it.” 

Morgan tried, focusing on the aspects of reality around her. She tried changing what she saw, but she couldn’t quite conceptualize what she was supposed to be doing. She let out a huff, her shoulders sagging. “I can’t do it.” 

“That’s alright.” Nimue smiled, reaching out to tilt Morgan’s head up. “You did well for your first attempt.” 

Morgan wasn’t so sure about that. She’d failed, so it didn’t seem like a great attempt. 

“It’s getting late. Shouldn’t you be safe at home?” Nimue asked. 

“I’m a bit lost.” Morgan admitted. “And I don’t particularly want to see my family at the moment.” 

“No? Why not?” 

Morgan sighed and explained everything, telling Nimue all about the surprise marriage proposal and how she hadn’t even been asked how she felt before it was agreed to. She didn’t know why she was telling all of this to a being from another world that she hardly knew. 

“That does sound unpleasant.” Nimue agreed. “Well, you are welcome to spend the night here. I promise that no harm will come to you.” 

Morgan considered, seeing no harm in taking the lady up on her offer. “Very well.” She laid upon the grass beside the lake. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, my dear.” Nimue smiled, a hand reaching out to run through Morgan’s curls. “Now sleep.” 

Morgan slept better than she had in years. 


End file.
